(A/N: Well, I recently learned that there was a heading for the Ganger Doctor, so I felt that it was finally acceptable for me to write a bit of fanfiction about him and the umm…well Doctor Doctor. Anyway, this is going to be slash, 11/Ganger 11 if you will. Does that count as self-cest? I don't know and I don't care, but I was blushing like a deranged school girl. I don't own Doctor Who, just as an FYI, so no I don't want to be sued for this. Well, on with the show!)

Hello Again Me

He was keeping a low profile, the whole thing with the Silent and the Question, it was best avoided really. He hadn't told anyone his name since back on Gallifrey, and if anyone was going to hear it, River wasn't going to be that one. Oh sure, he liked her and all, but just because she was part Time Lord didn't mean he was obligated to fall in love with her. He had loved before. He had loved his wife, felt a father's love for his children, and he had loved the Master, far more deeply than his own wife. But he did not love River. She had never known his name. Not even in the Library.

It had been a long time since he'd been alone in the TARDIS, with no intention of picking up a companion. He missed Amy and Rory, he missed River a little, distantly he missed Martha, Donna, Jack and Rose. But he would not drag anyone back into his life, nor ruin the life of a new companion, not until he figured out just how badly things could go wrong.

At that point he was lying in a hammock strung up beneath the TARDIS console, his eyes closed, hands tucked behind his head, legs crossed neatly at the ankles. He had no idea where he'd landed, but he had not intentions of leaving that place of comfort so soon. He had discarded his long jacket and his boots and lie in his button down and trousers, braces slipped off of his shoulders, sock feet bobbing back and forth, his hair flopped over his eyes.

The doors of the TARDIS opened and then closed with the sound of a Sonic, the Doctor couldn't help the smile that played over his lips at the thought of a visitor. His eyes remained closed as footsteps sounded, coming down to meet him. There was a sound of shoes being slipped off and kicked over to where his own had been discarded, and a jacket tossed over the same bit of wiring. He scooted over to accommodate the body that joined him in the hammock and wrapped an arm around broad shoulders as a head came to a rest on his chest.

A sigh passed his lips and he dropped a kiss on top of the head that had pillowed itself on him, earning a contented noise from the body in his temporary bed.

They laid together in silence for hours, arms wrapped around one another, sharing warmth and the soothing sound of four hearts beating in perfect synchronization.

The Doctor shifted carefully, twisting so that their chests were pressed together and the other being's head rested on his upper arm. With an arm draped carefully over bony hips he opened his eyes and stared placidly at the other man. His lips twitched into a smile as he realized that the other's gaze had probably been fixed on him for quite some time.

"Hey," the Doctor breathed, his fingers trailing over the lines of the other man's face, thumb lightly stroking parted lips.

"Hey," came the soft reply of the man that shared each and every one of his features.

"I knew that you'd be back. How have you been?" the Doctor asked quietly as the other man's hand ghosted over his skin.

"Good. Putting myself back together mostly. Clever you, putting the stabilization frequency into the Sonic for me. How did it go with the Ponds?"

"Very not well, Mr. Smith. I got too dangerous for them, well for me, I suppose. I don't think Amy would have left on her own. Amy Williams, Rory's wife," the Doctor paused, laughing softly, 'John Smith's' face broke into a sad smile. "No, I'm alone now, we are, I suppose," the Doctor finished softly, and allowed his head to drop against the other man's.

"John, dear Doctor, at least call me John. I'm you after all. And it's what I've been calling myself. Doesn't seem right to say I'm the Doctor when I'm not," the man called John said with a soft sigh, his free hand cradling the back of the Doctor's head.

"But you are, as much as I am. We've been over this before," the Doctor said firmly, his own hand mimicking John's.

"No, Doctor, I have your memories, your features, but I'm lacking something that you have. Something important," John pressed their foreheads firmly together and dug in his trouser pocket, revealing his Sonic for the Doctor's inspection. And taking the proffered object, the Doctor scanned the man that was supposed to be him to a t. He chewed his lip in confusion and annoyance as he looked at the results.

"Your regenerations…I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry," the Doctor breathed and wrapped both arms firmly around John's body, holding him close. A Time Lord without the ability to regenerate was virtually unheard of since they'd worked out how to do it more than 12 times. It was a cruel existence in all truth. John merely wrapped his arms around the Doctor in turn and shushed the other man.

"It's going to be fine, everything will be okay. It isn't your fault Doctor. If I'm right, I should be able to just recreate this body if it's destroyed. But I figured that I'd be more likely to manage that if I were with you. Is that wrong of me?" John said softly, leaning his head back and staring into eyes that mirrored his own. The Doctor smiled and shook his head in response; he kissed the other man on the forehead before hugging him once again.

"No, not at all. Not even a little bit. God, I love you, I really do," the Doctor's voice was low and soft, his face pressed in the junction of John's neck and shoulder. It was like having a separate Time Lord with him, and he wasn't going to give that up easily. Then he felt the other man's lips against his neck and his jaw and his eyes dropped closed and his head fell back, a groan of pleasure slipping from his lips.

"And I you, dear Doctor," John replied as his lips made a trail up and across the Doctor's jaw, hesitating just an inch away from his partner's lips. Their eyes locked, and after brief moment of consideration, the Doctor closed the gap, sealing his lips to John's and kissing him desperately. Hands once comfortable and questioning became searching and needy, before long leaving both men in naught but their trousers.

"Is it narcissistic of me to say you're beautiful?" the Doctor breathed, between kisses laid feverishly against the other man's torso. His fingers dragged themselves across his lover's chest and down to his hips, trailing the waistband of his trousers.

"Not if I can say the same of you," John replied and shifted to kick their discarded shirts off of his legs. Doing so, however, cause the hammock to deposit them on the floor beneath it. The Doctor landed on top of John and he took advantage, kissing already abused lips eagerly and straddling the other man's hips. When John ground his hips into the Doctor's it was almost too much for the other man.

"Bedroom," the Doctor moaned, attempting to draw a deep breath and failing due to John's insistence.

"Agreed," John sat up quickly, trapping the Doctor's hips against his own for a brief moment before both of them were on their feet, staggering toward their bedroom. By time they fell into the bed, trousers had been discarded and only pants remained, the Doctor pinned his mirror image to the pillows with a searing kiss, his fingers buried deeply in the other man's hair. He unashamedly ground their hips together, generating much needed friction between them and making the other man whimper with poorly concealed need.

"I want you," the Doctor's voice had gone husky with lust, his hair was disheveled and hanging in his eyes as he met the other man's hungry gaze. John didn't give it a second thought as he flipped the Doctor and shucked both of their polka-dotted pairs of pants and complied with his lover's demands.

Hours later, the Doctor lie, still breathing heavily with exertion, beside his replica. He had draped one long arm delicately over bony hips and was admiring the spent and blissed out expression worn by the other man. Oh was he ever the egotistical one, perhaps the Master had always been right about that in some respects. But as similar as they were, the slight imperfections in the Flesh's ability to recreate Time Lord DNA, had rendered them two separate people. Being re-assembled hadn't helped; the integrity of the Flesh had been compromised if the other man couldn't regenerate. Of course, he wouldn't rest until his fellow Time Lord could regenerate, and could survive alone should they need to part.

"I love you, I love you so much," John Smith said, his fingers raking through the Doctor's hair and a smile on his lips.

"And I love you. Don't rightly understand how it makes sense. Can't stand myself in this body…but…you are a whole different story. I think I understand, at least a little bit now, how it is for the others. On the outside looking in. You really are a Prince Charming, and I don't want that any other way," the Doctor whispered, his hand cupping the other man's cheek gently. The other man smiled brightly and kissed the Doctor on the forehead before pulling him close and bringing the blankets up over both of their shoulders.

"You be my knight in shining armor, and I will be yours. Sleep now, you can stress out about saving me once you've had a good kip," John said and the Doctor obeyed. They fell asleep together with little effort.

(A/N: This probably would have been more graphic were I not such a prude or afraid of offending someone. I just really like the idea of Matt Smith making out with himself. Is that so weird? I don't even know. I am certain that there will be more like this. But leave me a review and tell me what I could fix. I did my best to use the separate names so that it was less confusing. Oh, and don't bash it because you love River or you think the Doctor wouldn't do something, it is fanfiction.)